But We Were Going For Dinner
by Brackster
Summary: Small decisions could have such big consequences, and merely a handful of words could set events off on such a different track. So when Fitz offers to finish up the work on the monolith for Simmons it is him who gets sucked through the portal to Maveth whilst Simmons is faced with the overwhelming task of how to bring him home.
"Dinner"

"Fast approaching, yes and we'll eat it I'm sure."

Fitz took a deep breath as he watched Simmons working on taking readings from the monolith – the longer this conversation went on the more awkward it got.

"Yeah, no, no, no. But, uh, me and you... maybe we could eat somewhere else You know, somewhere... nice." he stumbled, trying to lean nonchalantly on the monolith case. Simmons looked up from her work as things finally clicked into place.

"Oh." she said with a slight nod. Fitz mind raced, that was a good 'oh' right? At the very least it wasn't a no so that was something. The short silence between them seemed to stretch on for hours as each waited for the other to say something. Fitz shifted his weight slightly, causing his hand to slip on the monolith case. He quickly caught himself, red faced. Simmons' face was unreadable as she looked at him – but a good kind of unreadable, he hoped.

"Okay, well," he tapped the lock on the monolith door – he added checking that the mechanism was up to scratch to his mental to do list. Simmons was still looking at him, the ghost of a smile on her face. "Tell you what, Jemma, why don't you let me finish up here while I work on some ideas to run by you – go make a start on polishing your nails or whatever it is that takes you girls so long."

she rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh Fitz..." she began, Fitz's heart sank as he braced himself for the inevitable rejection. He was caught off guard when her eyes softened and a smile broke out across her face – a warm, genuine Jemma Simmons smile – a pang of guilt and sadness struck him and he realised just how long it had been since he'd last seen that smile. "The scans are all in progress, you just need to wait for them to finish," she paused again "Thank you." she squeezed his arm as she passed him on the way to the door. Fitz waited until she'd slipped through the door and softly closed it behind her before he let out a long breath, blowing his cheeks out. He felt like a weight has been lifted from his chest and let out a little happy dance as he stepped round to check the status bar on the laptop Simmons had been using to collect data on the monolith. 78% but ticking along nicely. Good. Fitz pulled out his phone and began scrolling back through his notes in search of the name of the restaurant Hunter had taken Bobbi to a couple of months ago – Bobbi had seemed impressed, Hunter had been smug about the deal he'd got and things had been going pretty well for them. He jotted the name down on a scrap of paper so he wouldn't have to be checking his phone when he spoke to Simmons about it. It was an Italian, Simmons liked Italian food, but given total choice he knew she'd have chosen a cosy little gastropub with a log fire that served proper British pub grub, but without commandeering both a quinjet and a pilot that one was sadly out of the question. Fitz smiled at the memories of the many evenings they'd spent at her local back in Sheffield during their holidays from the academy – all the nights she'd spent trying to convert him to the real ale from the local brewery whilst he flatly refused and clung to his cider. He desperately hoped this evening would be as happy and carefree as all those had been. He moved round to check all the equipment Simmons had set up whilst he waited, his eye suddenly drawn to the ajar door of the monolith case. He cursed under his breath – he'd have to make checking the locking mechanism a priority – none of them knew the risk the monolith posed, it was just a good job he was still here to close it up again. He reached up to secure the glass door when it _changed_. The towering rock sloshed to the ground as if invisible strings holding it up had been cut and before Fitz could fully process what was going on he hit the floor, the wind knocked out of him as the inky surge which had pushed him off his feet washed over him. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the smooth concrete floor but found none. He heard himself screaming as the blackness closed over his head and cut off the sound.

Jemma

 _Jemma_

But they were going for dinner...


End file.
